Thorne was awakened by cold water splashing over him.
Not real water—it was the command the Matriarch had forced into his consciousness: he must inherit the Alpha throne, and today he must complete the bonding ceremony.
He knelt before the sacred mountain temple, his forehead marked with blood-red blessing runes, the Alpha cloak draped over his shoulders. No choice, no resistance.
Liora held his arm, her slightly rounded belly prominent, her smile gentle and warm, as if she were already queen.
The elders’ chanting echoed in his ears like a curse. He lowered his head, his fingertips trembling faintly.
He knew this wasn’t honor—from this moment on, he had truly become their tool.
After the ceremony, the entire pack gathered outside the main hall. Applause, howls, and congratulations filled the air. But not everyone was pleased.
“He won’t even acknowledge his own pup—what kind of Alpha is that?”
“No marked mate, no established heir, yet he got the witch pregnant… does he rely on bloodline or bedroom prowess?”
“I heard his former partner left? Just like that?”
A few casual cold remarks spread among the wine cups, seeping in like poison.
Thorne sat in the Alpha seat, his gaze cold and heavy.
He felt those sneers. He knew the pack was watching—not his glory, but assessing his worth.
Liora sensed the atmosphere and immediately stood, her voice gentle but loud enough for all to hear:
“My union with Thorne is guided by the Wolf God. Our child will be the backbone of the pack’s future.”
She placed her hand on her belly, speaking each word clearly: “I willingly bear all doubts on his behalf.”
Instantly, applause rose again in the hall.
Thorne pressed his lips together and said nothing.
When night fell, candles burned in the bridal chamber.
Liora changed into a silver-white ceremonial dress, moon flowers adorning her hair. She approached him, sitting gently beside him, her scent soft and sweet.
Thorne leaned back in his chair, eyes half-closed, his entire being seeming drained of soul.
She leaned closer, pressing against his neck: “You’ve been avoiding me—is it because of her?”
Thorne didn’t respond.
She laughed softly, placing her hand on his chest: “Thorne, I’m carrying your child. Tonight, you must be mine.”
She kissed him, her movements skilled and provocative. He initially didn’t respond, until she suddenly bit his shoulder, stimulating something deep in his wolf soul.
He growled low and pressed her down forcefully.
In that moment, physical instinct overcame him.
The ceremonial dress was torn, skin against skin, their breathing intertwined like wildfire. The room’s fragrance grew heavier, mixed with desire and reluctance.
She gripped his back: “Thorne, look at me—I’m your Luna now.”
But he kept his eyes closed, gasping, and in that moment of release, he murmured a name:
“…Seraphina.”
Liora’s expression froze instantly.
Then a slap struck his face hard.
Crack—
The room held only her heavy breathing and Thorne’s silence.
“You can’t forget her?” She gritted her teeth. “You’re on top of me, calling her name?”
The room fell into dead silence.
Liora’s eyes turned ice-cold, delivering another harsh slap.
“Who are you calling?”
Thorne froze, his face showing disbelief, shame, and confusion.
Liora wrapped the sheet around herself and walked away, sneering: “You deserved to lose her.”
